Dracoism
by ShinigamiForever
Summary: Ratings will rise when I see fit. Just a creative way for me to vent my plot bunnies. Readers deserve a badge for courage. Slash is always implied. Very Draco-centered. The truth behind truth is this: the self. In which Draco attempts to find it.
1. [sleep and forget]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[sleep and forget]  
  
If I could never sleep and always live in a world of swiftly tilting knives on knives and all the rest, I would be glad, because even the pain brings me a little closer to feeling.  
  
I do not like the expression a stone heart. There is a stone somewhere and it cries and cries and that is how my heart is like. I will keep bleeding tears of blood until I realize how to feel and then the blood will become nothing but a feeling.  
  
I want truth and I want lies. I do not want to be trapped looking through the world in a single lens. You do realize that no one is the same and all is bent a certain way? Well, my lens is shifted just out of focus so all I see is the meaningless static of my mind, somewhere.  
  
This is how it works, and this is how it will always work. Sleep, a lullaby, sleep and forget, Draco, sleep and forget.  
  
I like the night because I defy it. 


	2. [facade, how I hate thee]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[facade, how I hate thee]  
  
If I wander the pathways, I will find dead ends, as opposed to him, who always finds tunnels.  
Tunnels to places I will never go, because I have clipped wings.  
  
Slytherins are damned, do you know that? We all have assumed personalities to hide behind, and because we lose so much of ourselves to making that image, we have nothing left. We are bone dry under the fleshy cover of arrogance and spite. Do you know that is our life blood there? What he spits on everyday, what he treads beneath with his shoe, that is it.  
  
But we are damned, because we cannot pull through, because years of lifeblood has been drained away, because everyone has contributed a little bit more, pushed us a little bit lower, killed us a little bit harder, ridiculed a little too much. And soon we will look out and only see red. Sweet red red red, like our blood. Slytherin is green and yet we should have been red.  
  
I loathe him because he does not see and because I want him to. 


	3. [cut]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[cut]  
  
It was, after all, only a paper cut, and with a paper cut, I changed what little bit poured out. If you took that blood I expelled with that paper cut, you could bind me to you. But you do not. It is more than my unwillingness. It is also your hesitaton.  
  
I do not lie when I say I want to live, because I really don't want to die, it's not something that will help. Psuedo life, perhaps, is what I want to escape from, and the point is this: Where is the life I am looking for, and if I cut myself deeper, will I find it?  
  
Because there must be some kind of quicksilver pulsating through your veins. You are so far removed from everything that it must be magic, not the magic we study here, but something deeper and more instinctive.  
  
The instinct of an animal trying to live.  
  
So do you fabricate a world for yourself? Do you live in a world for of dreams? Do you pretend even though some clock is ticking away with your life?  
  
And most importantly, will it hurt when you are cut? 


	4. [joke]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[joke]  
  
The last time I smiled and laughed for real was when I thought of you during Potions class. Somehow that isn't right, and in fact I'm sure there is something wrong with it. The fact that you made me smile, the last true geniune smile left.  
  
Gossip is stupid. I could squash it beneath my feet.  
  
But you. What if you were there, and I was the foot, would I squash you like I would squash a bug? Letting the life go, oozing out like guts and strange blackness? Perhaps not, perhaps. We will never know.  
  
I don't like the fact you laugh so much. I want that laughter to be only for me.  
  
The people around me are saying, "Malfoy, it was a joke."  
  
Shows what they know. 


	5. [breaking dawn]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[breaking dawn]  
  
My father used to collect glass bottles. I loved them too, they were such pretty colors, green and blue and white. But what was rarest of all was the red and orange ones, like catching colored smoke and filling a bottle with them. I like glass now. It nicks and cuts at my skin, but it is beautiful.  
  
Dawn, to me, is a bottle. When it is morning, the bottle breaks and scatters its fragments across the sky to make peace.  
  
How sad, that what some people perceive as so happy is really the fragmented soul of a bottle. 


	6. [desperation]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[desperation]  
  
I tell him, Blaise, you're sleeping with the enemy.  
He shrugs and says, so.  
  
I tell him, Blaise, you're breaking school rules.  
He shrugs and says, when did you care.  
  
I tell him, Blaise, you're getting yourself into a messy situation.  
He shrugs and says, I'll clean up my own messes.  
  
I tell him, Blaise, you're going to get yourself hurt.  
He shrugs and says, so be it.  
  
I tell him, Blaise, you're better off not doing it.  
He shrugs and says, you'll never know.  
  
I tell him, Blaise, you'll get your heart broken over and over.  
He shrugs and says, it happens anyway.  
  
I tell him, Blaise, don't do it.  
He looks up and says, why?  
  
I tell him, Blaise, don't do it for me.  
He shrugs and says, it's too late, Draco.  
  
It's too late, Draco.  
Ah, how I wish he would take it back. 


	7. [obsession: spring]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[obsession: spring]  
  
If I start to obsess about him, I will know that I am insane and that I am way beyond hope, so that is why I try to think in circles and not about him, thinking about other things that lead me to him, like spring.  
  
I like spring, but only because the leaves are a gentle green, and sometimes when they are in full bloom, those leaves, they look like the color of his eyes, fresh and new born in the spring sunlight, glinting yellow and bright. I know the color of his eyes because I obsess about them.  
  
Or like the dogwood trees, with their pink blooms that aren't really flowers, but I never liked getting technical. They are pink like his lips, slightly chapped, and that's why he always runs his tongue across them, light enough to drive me insane, but slow and not really meaning to be seductive, except it happens anyway.  
  
And if I start into the skies, I slowly, slowly, loosen my grip on this insane reality, and just jump. 


	8. [obsession: summer]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[obsession: summer]  
  
But if I move instead to lush grass and exotic flowers blooming, brushing their pollen scented nectar everywhere, more here than there and little rubs of silken scent, then I began to lose msyelf in exploring the way his skin is lightly touched and caressed by the sun, even when it is winter.  
  
A gentle hue of bronze that covers him, not pale like me, contrasting ever so slightly with his robes, the dark black that makes it seem unnaturally gifted.   
  
And I think about beaches with wind ruffled hair and naked toes sprawled across the shore line with the water tickling them right where it is the most sensitive.  
  
I wouldn't know. But I would want to be there. 


	9. [obsession: fall]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[obsession: fall]  
  
Is it that his shadow casts other shadows or that he casts light, and I do not know nor care because he is soft like autumn. He approaches with the grace of leaves that drift softly and I tread softer because I want him to understand I do not want to hurt him.  
  
He is colored like autumn with romance and beauty and this lovely thing called boyhood that would be springish if he had not matured so quickly, so much like vintage wine, bitter and sweet and fruity and rich on your tongue, but you have only a sip because he spreads himself so thin.  
  
But that one sip and you are longing for more, craving for more, because he has you hooked like an addiction, but he lets you fall to the rock bottom so slowly and so gently you almost believe--  
  
almost believe--  
  
But never quite, quite believe-- 


	10. [obsession: winter]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[obsession: winter]  
  
Let his eyes glaze over the falling snowflakes, like little fairies and butterflies descending on your open grave. Swallow his eyelashes that are sprinkled with white, that are so pale like yours only because the fire has not touched it yet.  
  
He is warm, like apples and cinnamon and warm hot chocolate. You would expect him to melt everything, to destroy everything, to become like the lion which he was chosen, rampaging across the world with a fire blazen path.  
  
Instead he trods so lightly and breaths so softly you would not know he was there, and his skin is cold like icy fire, and he is glacial like you are not supposed to be. He breaks away the frost and sticks it against his tongue, tasting flavors that were not originally there.  
  
I am surprised his hands do not melt the snowflakes. He holds out his palms until they are white. 


	11. [explanation: 1-10]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[explaining 1-10]  
  
So... uh.. I guess I deserve everyone an explanation to the first 10 dracoisms. There will be more, so I'll do this in between every 10 so that readers have some idea what the short fragments are really about. I'll do my best  
  
[sleep and forget]  
This is just basically Draco up at night, thinking. There is a reference to the stone that cried, which I believe is a Greek myth somewhere. The last few lines contradict each other quite a lot, but just stream of consciousness stuff, I guess.  
  
[facade, how I hate thee]  
The 'he' is Harry in this little passage, and Draco is basically explaining the mentality of Slytherins. This is, I suppose, a badly done tribute to Demeter's short story about Snape and how she thought of Slytherins as the children of the damned.  
  
[cut]  
... is not about suicide. Just to get that off my chest first. It's just talking about how Draco got a papercut, and he is wondering how Harry deals with life. The references to cutting are just symbolic.  
  
[joke]  
This was a little scene I wanted to play out in greater detail, but I didn't have the patience. In it, the Slytherins joke that if Draco and Harry became an item, they could use it to their advantage and squash the Gryffindors. However, Draco starts getting too serious about it, and so they tell him it was just a joke. He, poor guy, doesn't buy it.  
  
[breaking dawn]  
... is pretty much self explanatory. Background to this story: Kawabata's First Snow on Mount Fuji. There is a story called This Country, That Country, in which they talk about glass bottles, and a man named Chiba collected them. And no, Draco does not cut his wrists, it's his fingers that get nicked.  
  
[desperation]  
Blaise Zabini is one of the most controversial Slythies, beside Draco baby himself. Blaise is not ever made into male or female, in this case, I am assuming him to be male. Blaise, in this passage, is being an inter-house slut, and Draco is telling him not to do it, for his own good. I guess Draco baby once was an inter-house slut himself.  
  
[obsession: spring]  
Comparing Harry to spring.  
  
[obsession: summer]  
comparing Harry to summer.  
  
[obsession: fall]  
Comparing Harry to fall.  
  
[obsession: winter]  
Comparing Harry to winter. My favorite of the season passages. 


	12. [kissing shadows]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[kissing shadows]  
  
Sometimes I wake up to the sound of my heart beating against my chest, and I can hear whispers from unknown faces, faces that laugh at me somewhere, gently and mockingly. I like to pretend the little light streaming from the window into my lonely dorm room also forms a face on the floor, a puddle of light I can collect later and store in a vile.  
  
If I look hard enough, maybe I can squint as see your face in the darkness, all pronounced hair and eyes, watching me with a malice on your face born of some untouchable fear, fear of me, perhaps?  
  
But it's the shadows that scare me the most, the way they close in on me, and sometimes I feel so suffocated, running out of breath underneath smothering sheets and bedclothes.   
  
That's when I pretend you lean in and kiss me.  
  
The shadows go away when I look at your face. 


	13. [conversation fear]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[conversation fear]  
  
You'll never believe me, but the first time I met you, I was so afraid I thought I would retreat into the ground and become a patch of floor. Just the idea of you, another person, so unbelievably open and new and untouched, and I knew who you were. It made me so afraid, so stunned, so shy, that I hid behind my most normal reaction: shunning. You'll never believe me, but I'm just as bad as your fans.   
  
Except I cower when I approach you.  
  
So each time, each second that flows by, each little hitch that is my breath, each little cloud that is yours, my conversation fear gets worse and worse, and on the outside, but really it's the inside, our situation becomes more and more hostile.  
  
It's not that we both hate each other. It's unequal, you see. You are really indifferent towards me and I am so afraid of you. Which one is the opposite of love? 


	14. [sweat]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[sweat]  
  
If I were brave, I would have been able to swoop by you and not get afraid and actually say something decent to you. If I were brave, I would jave commented on the weather and then our hostility and enemity would have been breached. If I were brave, I would have offered you my friendship without putting my heart at stake. If I were brave, I would have reached out and touched away the scorching hot sweat dripping down your temples after Quidditch practice. If I were brave, I would have confessed that I wanted to press my fingers against your lips and taste you on my skin. If I were brave, I would be able to admit that I hunger after you in the dark.  
  
But if I were brave, I would have been sorted to Gryffindor and this situation would have never arisen. 


	15. [letters home]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[letters home]  
  
Dear Father; school is fine. I am fine. Is mother fine? Are you fine?  
  
Dear Father; What possesses you in the middle of the night to get up and walk to the window, only to back up and retreat into your hollow bed?  
  
Dear Father; I'll never be okay. I'll never go back to being myself. I'll never find the way out of the dark. I'll never follow your footsteps. That's because I can't find them. That's because you never left any. That's because I'm on the wrong path.  
  
Dear Father; The iris and the larkspur and the pretty pretty lilies of the valley. Ah Father! Spring, can you taste it on your tongue?  
  
Dear Father; A rose by any other name will be as sweet, but it will never be a rose.  
  
Dear Father; Do you look at the color blue and think of his eyes sometimes, and then realize that you'll never see that color again? Never see quite that same color again?   
  
Dear Father; If you would forget, I could forget, but as neither of us has the will to forget, both of us shall suffer. Like father, like son.  
  
Dear Father; What would you say if I told you- no, let us not think of that.  
  
Dear Father; Silence is omnipotent in our spaces.  
  
Dear Father; Leave a little dream in your eyes. It brings out the gray.  
  
Dear Father; school is fine. but I, I am not fine. And neither are you. 


	16. [amnesia]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[amnesia]  
  
No, I don't remember having a little puppy and naming it Boy, then finding it dead days later because I forgot to feed it.  
  
No, I don't remember Aunt Callia and how she used to give me silver ribbons to tie up my hair.  
  
No, I don't remember my ninth birthday when you and Father gave me a leather notebook and then Father took it away because I started writing poetry.  
  
No, I don't remember trying to bake cake in an apron when I was six, only to have you hit me later.  
  
No, I don't remember sneaking into your room at night when I was a boy, scared of nightmares.  
  
No, I don't remember how I used to love petting your black satin dresses.  
  
I don't remember anything except the image of his face, taunt and slender with unnamed grace, eyes a brilliant forest green, and hair like the wings of night. 


	17. [photograph of you]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[photograph of you]  
  
While I hate Colin Creey most of the time, I do owe him for giving me one thing: a picture of you. Of tenderly stripped trees against the harsh white of snow, the palest trace of silver blue in it. Your scarf, whipped around your neck, your head half turned, a strangely intimate smile on your face. As if he caught you right as you were sharing a secret with yourself. A small cloud of warm air, caught on film. The movement of the photograph is of you turning around, whirling around to catch the click of the camera. Tentatively, a whisper of a laugh.  
  
I asked Colin Creevy, who I mostly hate except for this little thing, to develop it in Muggle film. I didn't want you to run away into the background of the wintery forest shore. 


	18. [obsession: sight]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[obsession: sight]  
  
I can't describe him more than to say he is strangely beautiful and tipped in light. He has eyes, not shimmering pools of color, but eyes a prism of green, reflexively changing bright and dark to reflect his emotions. He has black hair, not hard and prickly hair, but sleek in a tossed way, strips of the midnight cut and pasted on his head. He has creamy skin, the color of milk and bronze, hard and soft light flitting over the tones of his face.  
  
He looks slender and thing and breakable. Stronger than me, built with more something, more pride and hope and truth, I suppose. Not drained like me, not spun glass but more stained glass windows.  
  
But if you throw a stone, he'll break too. 


	19. [obsession: sound]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[obsession: sound]  
  
He doesn't really have a memorable voice. It's gentle and conciliatory, except when he gets angry, and then the spark carries into his voice, dry and sarcastic like October wind and tinkling ice cubes. There's a crackling in it like cold fire. But when he's happy, or when he talks to the people around him, he's wind in the trees, whistling, the bubbling path of a wood creek, smooth and sauve, with the seducer's charm.  
  
It's not his voice that's memorable. It's the lack of sound he makes when he moves, drifting along, the whispering of his robes in his absence, and the lingering murmur of his breath in the air.  
  
When he's gone. 


	20. [obsession: scent]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[obsession: scent]  
  
He smells nice. It's funny, but he really does. Not in the cologne way, full of chemical scents and unnatural fells to it. his shampoo smells a bit like heather and wild flowers, although that sounds so feminine and he is so very very straight. If he blows by you, close enough so that his robes touch yours, but not close enough for sking contact, he gives a smear of scent, of sandalwood and summer. And after Quidditch practice, he has a scent of warm hay, the hay of his broom and straw flowers. The smell of sweat blown dry by air and speed. The keen underlying of adrelinine.  
  
I think that if he were mine, I'd steal a bit of his scent and put it in a bottle to save for a rainy day. 


	21. [obsession: taste]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[obsession: taste]  
  
It's hard to say what he would taste like. Probably a bit of salt and sweat, but that's normal. I know Dean Thomas would maybe taste like chocolate, but that's because his skin is that color already. If that were true, then I'd be vanilla, but Blaise says I'm mint and apple, and he would know. I wouldn't.  
  
So, maybe he tastes liks coffee and warm things, like cocoa and cold nights or sipping lemonade on summer days, something like that. I imagine my mouth flooded with traces of hone and grapes and wine and ashes that he reminds me of, but that's in dreams. He should taste like grapes. Perhaps.   
  
What I would give to find out. 


	22. [obsession: touch]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[obsession: touch]  
  
From what I know of touch, I know the slightest brings you closer to what you're looking for. Did not the Asian myths tell of the one touch that can bring a person to their death? So why, why not can one touch bring another closer, give life to a person?  
  
Is it the fact that one is touched, that it is the person touching, or is it the way one is touched? Perhaps touching him will find my life in the beads of perspiration on his skin, sliding pearls of gold beneath my fingers. And I want to live life, and touch the daisy petlas beneath my skin because I think that's what he would feel like. The wings of an eagle that slice the air.  
  
He is made of glass, and I am afraid that if I touch him I will cut myself on his compassion. 


	23. [explaining 12-22]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[explaining 12-22]  
  
To Ola: No, I was never obessesed with someone the way Draco is with Harry. But I guess I am drawing on experience of my friends and other authors, and on my natural poetic sense of writing to carry this one through.  
  
[kissing shadows]  
  
There is a chinese saying which I think is "as unseparable as shadows". That was the inspiration for this, as well as Hermia's dream in A Midsummer Night's Dream, by Shakespeare.  
  
[conversation fear]  
  
The title is a tribute to REM's song 9-9, I think. I just wanted to play with the idea that Draco is really an obsessive fan of Harry's, except he is so far gone that he can't show it in the normal way.  
  
[sweat]  
  
Ha! More Quidditch practice aftermath junk. You know, there is so much on what if Harry was sorted into Slytherin, but I don't believe I have read any into what if Draco was sorted into Gryffindor. I mean, it would never happen, but it's an interesting idea.  
  
[letters home]  
  
I think the person I was referring to, the one with the blue eyes, is James. Therefore, the rose (that would smell just as sweet and has a different name but is not quite a rose) would be Harry. It's a vague idea. I liked it. *shrugs*  
  
[amnesia]  
  
The puppy is a weak tribute to Trinity's little snippets in her livejournal. The one snippet on Draco owning a puppy named Harry when he was young was sublime. Aunt Callia and the ribbon come to you by my strange strange subconsciousness, in which I had a dream where Draco tied up his hair in silver ribbons. Many of the other things, such as baking cakes and petting dresses, all have their roots in other people's works, but I don't know exactly where they spring from.  
  
[photograph of you]  
  
Because everyone must have a photograph of Harry.  
  
[obsession: sight]  
  
The following obsessions all sprang from bondagechic's fic on exploring Draco through the senses. So of course, someone had to pay homage to Harry. The part about eyes not being shimmering pools comes from Elysian's live journal. I think. My memory sucks.  
  
[obsession: sound]  
  
It's just the way I imagine Harry's voice, not particulary memorable. A lot of the time, you only remember a person's voice when it's gone. Some of the phrase (seducer's charm, especially) belong to Orson Scott Card's Shadow of the Hegemon. Some of the images are drawn from various Robert Comier books. Sound is my favorite, of all these five senses ficlets.  
  
[obsession: scent]  
  
I just like the part about being very very straight. *starts cracking up for no reason*  
  
[obsession: taste]  
  
Hm. Not very imaginative, because at this point, Draco has really tasted Harry's skin, so he can only imagine.  
  
[obsession: touch]  
  
Sorry this one took so long! There is indeed a martial arts practice that says something about killing people with one touch. 


	24. [teatime and pansies]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[teatime and pansies]  
  
If I, and I wouldn't, but if, reached out and touched her hand, she would flinch, then smile, and lay her hand over mine.  
  
If I, and I wouldn't, but if, got up and left, she would sit for a little while, then blink and finish her tea.  
  
If I, and I wouldn't, but if, told the truth and said I didn't love her, she would close her eyes, then open them again and smile sadly.  
  
If I, and I wouldn't, but if, took myself out to the Quidditch pitch, she would follow, then wait at the edges for me to come back.  
  
If I, and I wouldn't, but if, escaped, she would look for me, then drag me back and never let me leave again.  
  
So instead, I sit back and sip my tea, the echo of his voice still in my mind. 


	25. [obsession: blue]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[obsession: blue]  
  
Just as melancholy the gigantic blue sky is, blue is the color of his hpapiness. It is deep and boundless; the deeper the lake is, the more it holds, and the less it spills, the more it contains. He contains his happiness, just as he contains his grief, and both mix into the brackish water that is the purest of his wine. One day, perahps, it will crack, and all that agony and joy will spill forth like a flood, and we will all be drenched by the enormity of his truth. Indeed, already, the blue sky is like my happiness, and I cannot keep the patches of wanderlust and joy from entering into the deepest recesses of my happiness, mixing until none are separate.  
  
Blue is the happiness he keeps within himself. 


	26. [obsession: green]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[obsession: green]  
  
I could say the green is the color of his eyes, but everyone knows of his eyes, the dark forests that spread themselves in the light. The crucifixes he bears are tatooed green across his eyes like a forest canopy. But green, green is the color of his peace, the silence he reaps from th trees and fruit of his eyes. Green is the color of the silent serenity he tucks away in himself. Green is a summit he has climbed, and it is as high and hidden as his eyes. I envy the moon which kisses him in his sleep, and I envy his eyelids, to hold so close to that coveted green.  
  
Green is not the color of his eyes, but the color of the peace that stains his eyes. 


	27. [obsession: white]

Dracoism  
By: ShinigamiForever  
  
[obsession: white]  
  
The light flashes off my fingers and it is white like his sadness. His sadness is empty with the lack of applause, the empty stadium he is afraid of returning to, or rather, backing into a corner- nay, the cupboard he spent lonely empty nights in, before fame whisked him away. He is afraid of becoming nothing again. He is afraid of being alone, just as I am afraid of being with people, and he is afraid of silence just as I am afraid of conversation.   
  
His sadness and his fear are the whiteness of my skin, and I will take and gather the emptiness, enfold it on and in me, press it against the walls, pressing it in, until someone comes along and forces the sadness away from the plaster. Someone else to take the white sadness away. 


End file.
